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I started my writing life as a poet, published a few pieces in University reviews, and then embarked on my life as a professional liar -- which is to say, a writer of fiction.

Every so often, however, I have the same compulsion that used to drive me into the corners of crowded rooms, with scraps of paper and a pen I stole from some bewildered stranger, and I write poetry.

KP and I were discussing poetry tonight. Or rather, we were discussing a collection of poetry which I thought should have been severely edited before it saw print -- because had it been, I would have loved it. I know that poetry is hard to edit -- but oddly enough, while I would not touch a single word of the same writer's -prose- (or most prose, really, as I'm not a line-editor for other's work), I would fiddle all over the place with other's poetry, if allowed.

I'm not sure why. In fact, I'm not sure why I write the poetry, because there is not only no intent to have it published, there is an active intent to have it buried.

Anyone else?


Jun. 20th, 2004 06:26 pm (UTC)
Re: welcome to lj!
There is no putting me -and- quiet together in the same sentence in real life, but oddly enough, I tend toward that on-line much more. And yes, it's very hard not to be happy to see Debbie. Although it's true that if she kept the camera away from her face, we would see more of her...

How have you managed to have kids _and_ keep writing?

Truly? Because we needed the money. Had there been any way at all that I could have avoided writing for the first year and a half of my son's life, I would have avoided it. He was a very, very fussy child, and he couldn't be put down until he could crawl -- unless, you know, you liked being deaf. He slept poorly for a long time; did not, in fact, sleep through the night until he had all his teeth. BUT there was a block of time between 2 and 5 every morning in which he could be depended on to sleep.

So I'd write then.

I was a wreck, though, and don't recommend it; it doesn't make for happy parents, and the lack of sleep really does make you -- as you probably know much better than I -- a bit crazy.

Also: consider. I can get up from the keyboard at any time. If the flow of the work is broken -- and it often was -- it's heartbreaking, but it doesn't destroy the book. Get up at the wrong place in a water-colour wash and you can lose everything.